


Leave Nothing Unsaid

by breeisonfire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s03e23 Insatiable, Major Spoilers, Tribute Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:46:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1339279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since she was a little girl, Allison Argent has been afraid of death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Nothing Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING THERE ARE MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN SEASON 3 EPISODE 23 BECAUSE SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT DON'T READ PAST THIS LINE!
> 
> Okay, I warned you, so now spoiler-y talk. I was really upset when Allison died. I totally respect Crystal's decision to leave the show, and I'm not mad at her for her decision. She has the right to do what she feels is best for her, and I'm glad she was able to do that. But I'm going to miss Allison. A lot. And her death just sort of fell flat for me. I had the need to write about it, so tada! This is my tribute fic to Allison.
> 
> My [tumblr](http://the-bookkeepers.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Beta'd by [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale) and [southerntamata](http://thirstyweeaboo.tumblr.com/).

Ever since she was a little girl, Allison Argent has been afraid of death.

It’s not dying that she’s afraid of. No, it’s the death of others that frightens her. It’s the _permanence_. The _finality_. It’s the helpless, crushing feeling that she gets by being left behind. It’s the fact that somehow, this amazing person, with bright eyes, and a smile, with all of these thoughts and ideas and emotions, has just stopped existing. It’s why she fights, even though she’s terrified. It’s why, even though she knows her dad would let her retire, would let her run, she doesn’t dare. Because she already knows how she’ll feel if yet another life goes out and she can’t handle it. Not again. Not for Isaac, not for Scott, not for Lydia, not for Stiles.

Not for her dad.

She remembers with a sharp intensity how lost she’d felt when her mom had died. She hadn’t known the whole story, she knows, and she forgives Scott for not telling her that (she does, because she’s glad she got to grieve without that tainting it). She knows that she’d gone off the rails, and that she’d fallen for Gerard’s manipulation, and she knows she could have gone a lot further than she already had if her dad hadn’t been there.

She’d been _terrified_. Her mom was just gone. She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye. She remembers her mom wanting to talk to her that night. She remembers blowing her off, because Lydia was there, and they had a birthday party to get to, and she was annoyed with being told to keep an eye on her best friend. She’d had so much on her mind. She doesn’t remember what her mom had looked like that night, but in her head she imagines she probably looked tired, and worried, and maybe even a little scared?

She doesn’t know if her mom was afraid of her death. She doesn’t know how her mom felt before her death. She doesn’t know if her mom died in peace, if her mom ever doubted that she had to die, if her mom had ever considered the idea of just being a wolf and living.

She remembers being angry at her mom for being so selfish, for leaving them. She remembers once, when she’d gone out to the preserve and just screamed at the sky, hoping her mom could somehow hear her. She’d yelled until she was hoarse, and then she’d just sat down and cried. When she’d gotten back, she’d gone to her dad and just hugged him tightly.

He was all she had.

She’d forgiven her mom. Her mom hadn’t wanted to be a werewolf, and no one was going to make her. She’d died on her own terms, and even if Allison didn’t agree with the idea, she wasn’t going to hate her mom for making her own choice.

She’d been glad to get out of Beacon Hills for the summer. Scott hadn’t called her, or texted her. Allison got updates from Lydia, and from her, knew there was no trouble. Allison thinks she would have talked her dad into going back if something had attacked while they were gone, but nothing had. Her dad had agreed to go back as long as they both agreed they were retired.

Allison’s really not surprised both of them ignored that agreement. Her dad has a sense of duty, it’s ingrained in him. It’s a part of who he is. And Allison just wanted to keep her friends alive and safe.

When people had started dying around them, Allison had once again felt that fear, but this time it came with a need to _do something_. Scott, Derek, and Isaac were running around trying to stop Cora and Boyd, and they’d enlisted her dad, so that made it her business. And it’s good she’d been there, because she’d been able to help.

After that night, she’d known there was no chance of her retiring. Her friends were too involved, she was too invested in their well-being. They needed her, and like hell was she going to let them down.

She’d almost failed more than once. Scott had almost died in the abandoned mall. Isaac, too. She’d argued with her dad right before that. He was wrong, that night. They couldn’t stay out of it. Allison couldn’t lose her friends, too. She wouldn’t allow it to happen. If she could stop it, she was going to. So she’d gone, and she’d been right. She’d helped save them.

She hadn’t quite got over the fear of losing Scott the next day, so she’d grabbed Lydia (to keep her safe, no matter what Lydia had thought; she was her _best friend_ , there was no way she was just leaving her behind) and followed the bus. When Stiles had called Lydia, Allison had been filled with the fear again, and she’d shoved it aside and ordered Stiles to stop the bus. When they’d gotten Scott of the bus, he’d been in bad shape, and she’d been at a loss what to do. She’d shot down the ambulance idea, because it would take too long, and there had to be _something_ they could do.

She’d been scared when she’d started to thread the needle. She’d been frustrated, because she couldn’t get it in, and Scott was dying right in front of her. She _had to do this_. Scott _needed her to do this_. She remembered what her mom had told her, and she’d forced herself to control her emotions. It worked.

There had been a terrifying moment when she’d thought she’d failed, until he’d suddenly woken up and startled her. He was _alive_.

( _For now_ , a pessimistic voice in her head had said.)

The motel is still a strong memory. The sight of Scott standing in the middle of puddle of gas with a flare still haunted her. She hadn’t been able to talk him down, hadn’t known what to say at all. So many things had gone through her head, but none of them would be able to get through to Scott, not when she was too filled with the fear of losing him, right in front of her.

Then Stiles had stepped forward, too, and for a few seconds she’d been absolutely terrified that she was going to lose both Scott _and_ Stiles, and she hadn’t been able to breathe until Stiles had pulled the flare out of Scott’s hand. Relief had rushed through her, and she’d been hurrying forward to hug them both until Lydia had screamed and Allison had realized that the flare was heading toward the gas and Scott and Stiles were both still in the gas puddle, and she’d helped Lydia get them out of it.

She’d been glad when Scott had suggested they all sleep on the bus. She’d stayed awake for several hours, just watching all of them and being grateful they’d survived.

She remembers almost losing Lydia at school the night of the recital. Scott had come and found her and told her what was going on. Stiles had been next to him, looking like he was about to break, and Allison hadn’t known what to say to him. Stiles _knew_. He knew by far the best out of their friends how she felt. He was plagued by the same fear she had, had the same drive to protect their friends and family as she did. The same desperation. And he had been living her worst fear.

It had made her sick to realize that, and she’d offered to go with them. Stiles had been the one to actually shoot her down, saying Lydia needed to be looked after, and _someone_ who knew the truth had to be there at the school in case something went down. They knew who she was now, and messed up her plans, he’d said. Who knew what she was doing now?

He’d barely been able to finish that, and Allison had hugged him before sending them off. She’d ended up at the hospital later, anyway, and she’d been angry and ready to let Jennifer die until Scott had reminded them that she still had Stiles’s dad. She’d remembered his face, the crushing fear he’d been crumbling under, and had looked in a mirror to imagine herself in his shoes. And then she’d had an idea.

Then Scott’s mom had been taken, and Scott had left. When she and her dad had gone to the hospital to take Stiles home, she’d swallowed her fear and just hugged him tightly for a few moments before they’d gone to her house. And then he’d given them the news, that their name was on the elevator, and a whole new panic had gone through her.

And her dad had _sacrificed himself_. She’d screamed repeatedly as Jennifer dragged her dad off, had nearly cut herself on the handcuffs around her wrist, trying to follow. It hadn’t made a difference. She’d drained herself before Isaac was able to get up, and just leaned against him when he broke the cuff.

She hadn’t hesitated when Deaton had asked them if they were willing to sacrifice themselves for their parents. There was _nothing_ she wouldn’t do for her dad. She would not lose him. She could not. She didn’t care about the danger of the ritual they’d done. She didn’t care about long-term effects on herself. It wasn’t about her. It was about her dad, and if she could do something, she was going to do it.

Finding her dad had made her weak with -- relief wasn’t a strong enough word. _Joy_ , maybe, pure joy at finding him alive and well. The stairs collapsing had muted it, along with her worry for Scott (who was fighting Jennifer with just _Deucalion_ on his side) and Stiles (whom no one had heard from), but it hadn’t gone away, and when Stiles had shown up in the basement and Scott had checked in, she’d allowed herself to revel in the joy of all of them surviving.

That joy had lasted _weeks_ , even through the hallucinations and even through the whole Malia thing. Seeing Kate had been terrifying, especially when she’d almost killed Lydia and then Isaac, but she would still take that over her dad’s death, and when she’d shot Mr. Tate in the shoulder, she’d felt proud and relieved and excited.

Unsurprisingly, things had gone crazy again, and with Kira being a kitsune, Isaac getting hurt, Stiles being possessed with a nogitsune, and her dad being arrest for murder, she’d been overwhelmed again. She wanted to protect them all (Kira included; she was another girl who’d been caught up in the middle of this, and Allison didn’t know her well but she wasn’t about to abandon her) and she didn’t have any idea how to. Isaac had been in the hospital, her dad had been in _jail_ , and God only knew what the thing possessing Stiles was up to, but they couldn’t find him.

The sheriff had gotten her dad out, and they’d teamed up with the sheriff and Derek to go see Stiles, and Allison didn’t know _what_ it was about the sheriff, but this was the second time he’d seen her breakdown. She’d been grateful for him, for listening and for getting her dad out, and for the hug, and she’d even more determined to save Stiles now than ever.

She’d been worried that her dad was actually going to shoot Stiles, which had been a dilemma. She _had_ to protect her dad, but she wasn’t about to lose Stiles, either. She’d compromised by causing his first gun to jam. She knew he had a back-up. She kept a close eye, and if he ever actually pulled the trigger, she’d either have time to talk him down, or she’d have time to jump in to protect him until he had his back-up out. When Stiles (the _nogitsune_ , not Stiles, just Stiles’s body) had disappeared, she’d been angry at the Oni for preventing them from confronting him, and worried about Stiles.

Seeing Isaac up and walking around had cheered her up. She’d been so... _emotional_ about his healing that she hadn’t been able to help herself. And he’d responded likewise. And she wouldn’t take it back. She’d been worried it hadn’t been him after learning about the flies, but he’d reassured her, and she wasn’t going to take it back. Ever.

But now Stiles was still dying even though he wasn’t possessed anymore, and Lydia was missing, and Allison knew there was a very real chance that they could all die. And she didn’t want to be where she’d been with her mom. She didn’t want to regret not saying anything. She didn’t want to let them die without knowing how she felt about them. _Leave nothing unsaid._

Her dad had been first on her list, even though she was terrified of losing him. She’d be even worse if she hadn’t said what she’d _needed_ to, needed him to hear the words.

_“Dad...if anything happens --.”_

_“Hey. You don’t need to worry about me.”_

_“Well, I-i didn’t get to say anything to Mom.”_

_“You didn’t need to say anything. And I’m gonna be around a long time. I promise.”_

_“Well, then, take it as a reminder. Maybe you don’t need to hear it, but I need to know that I said it. I love you. I’m proud of you. I - I’m proud of us.”_

He’d smiled and kissed on the head. Allison was glad she’d said it. That she hadn’t shied away from it. That no matter what happened, he’d know how she felt.

She’d made the arrowhead, made it as perfect as she could. There was still something missing, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it, because Scott was calling and telling her where Lydia is. She’d called her dad, told him, and even though he’d begged her to wait for him, she’d gone ahead. This was Lydia. This was her _best friend_.

She’d met up with them outside of Eichen House, and she’d looked them all over, determined to remember them. Scott looked worried and determined, and he kept glancing at Stiles like he thought he was going to disappear. Stiles looked exhausted and sick, and nervous. Isaac was that strange calm he was before fights. Kira was filled with grim determination.

She loved them all.

They had walked in and went where they’d planned. Allison went with Isaac and Kira to distract Kira’s mom and the Oni. She had to trust Scott and Stiles to find Lydia. They wouldn’t let her down, she was sure of it.

Noshiko was still convinced they had to kill Stiles, still convinced he was beyond help. Allison refused to believe it. She wouldn’t abandon Stiles, she wouldn’t just let him die like that. Not just because Noshiko said so.

And then the Nogitsune in its stolen body (for a heart-stopping moment Allison thought they’d lost Stiles again until she remembered there were two now) had appeared, having taken the Oni under his command, and they’d attacked.

She’d shot arrows, determined to take them down, to protect her friends. A mantra kept going through her head, reminding her why she was fighting, reminding her that she had to keep going.

_Lydia, Dad, Isaac, Scott, Stiles, Kira..._

The Oni knocked the arrow down. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kira, spinning with her katana, swinging it around. She could see Isaac tackling one, then growling at it.

_Lydia, Dad, Isaac, Scott, Stiles, Kira…_

Isaac was knocked down, and the Oni raised its sword, and Allison didn’t think, just ran forward and stopped the sword with her bow.

_Lydia Dad Isaac Scott Stiles Kira…_

Isaac was up, Kira was still fighting. Isaac stopped and looked back at Noshiko.

_“How do we stop them?”_

_“You can’t!”_

Isaac turned, but before he could defend himself, an Oni swung its sword, leaving a slash on his chest. Allison had started shooting again, determined to protect him. He was not going to die.

_Lydia Dad Isaac Scott Stiles Kira…_

Isaac was down on his knees, and Allison reached into her quiver and pulled out an arrow, aiming it directly at the heart of the Oni about to take the final blow on Isaac.

_LydiaDadIsaacScottStilesKiraLydiaDadIsaacScottStilesKiraLydiaDadIsaacScottStilesKira_

She released it.

It hit.

The Oni dropped its sword and grabbed at the arrow before _exploding_ in yellow light. The ground shook, and Allison had a brief moment of relief and euphoria before something moved in her peripheral vision and she turned her head.

She didn’t immediately realize what had happened. Pain erupted in her stomach, and she realized an Oni had literally run her through with a sword.

The hilt was sticking out of her stomach.

She couldn’t breathe. Someone was screaming her name, and it sounded like Lydia, but she wasn’t sure, and then the sword was being pulled out of her stomach again, and she realized her legs were no longer able to hold her up. She fell to the ground, expecting to hit cold concrete, but someone was grabbing her, someone was holding her in their arms and she blinked to see Scott’s face, worried and scared right above hers.

“Allison,” Scott whispered, but Allison wasn’t focused on that, she had to know, she had to know if Lydia was okay, she didn’t care about herself, she needed to know.

“Did you find her?” she managed to get out. “Is she okay? Is Lydia safe?”

Scott reached up to brush her hair out of her face as he whispered, “Yeah, she’s okay.”

“Yeah?” a burst of relief spread through Allison, even as she felt the world getting dimmer. The pain was fading, and she knew she was dying, and she knew Scott knew, even if he didn’t want to believe it, and he reached down and touched her hand before looking confused and terrified.

“I can’t,” his voice broke, and he had to start again. “I can’t take your pain.”

“That’s because it doesn’t hurt.”

Allison could see the moment Scott finally let himself think it, and she could see himself starting to cry.

“No,” he said, his voice full of pain and sadness, and something else. Pleading?

Allison just nodded. She was dying. There was nothing they could do, there was nothing -- but it was okay, it was, because she was dying, and it wasn’t Lydia or Isaac dying, it wasn’t Scott or Stiles or her dad, or Kira. It was okay.

Leave nothing unsaid.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“Allison,” Scott was still pleading, but Allison needed to tell him, needed to let him know, and she could feel the world slipping away, but she _had_ to tell him, and her tears started to fall then, but she let them.

“It’s okay,” she repeated, and Scott’s face scrunched up in pain. “It’s okay.”

Scott tried to say something, but he was crying too hard, and Allison whispered, “It’s okay, it’s perfect, I’m in the arms of my first love, the first person I ever loved, the person I’ll always love.”

And that was true, she _did_ love him, she’d always love him, he’d always be there in her memories. There would always be this spark, she knew, and she loved him.

“I love -- I love you, Scott,” she whispered. “Scott McCall.”

“Alli -- please don’t,” Scott pleaded through his tears. “Allison, don’t -- please.”

He didn’t seem able to say anything else, crying as hard as he was, and Allison _loved him_ , she really did.

She loved Isaac, too, she knew she did. Scott was her first love, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love Isaac. She did, and she didn’t regret anything, not one thing they’d done, and if she could she’d do it again. She loved Isaac, even though she loved Scott, she _loved Isaac_.

She loved Lydia, too. Lydia, who was her first friend in Beacon Hills, who had been through so much with her, who knew Archaic Latin and who helped her find dresses, who ran a red light once for her and who helped her through the darkness. Allison _loved Lydia_.

She loved Stiles, too, she had since she’d met him, when she’d started dating Scott. He was loyal and smart and recklessly brave and even though she only knew him because of Scott she was glad for his friendship, and she _loved Stiles_.

Her dad -- she loved him most. She loved him, and she knew he’d try to blame himself for this, and she loved him, and she needed him to not do that, she needed him to know she was okay, that she’d died honoring the code, that she’d died for her friends and didn’t regret it, and wouldn’t take it back.

“You have to tell my dad,” Allison pleaded with Scott, and he nodded, “you have to tell my dad, tell him --.”

But she couldn’t say it, she couldn’t _breathe_ , and she panicked, because she needed -- she needed to tell her dad not to worry about her, she needed to tell Lydia she loved her, she needed to tell Isaac that she still loved him, she needed to make sure Stiles was okay, she needed _just a little more time, she couldn’t, couldn’t leave anything unsaid, couldn’t go yet, not before everyone knew how she felt, she couldn’t, she wasn’t ready, she --_

She felt the last seconds of trying to breathe, and felt death coming closer, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, there was no way for her to negotiate -- she was out of time.

Allison Argent closed her eyes, and the silence from her heartbeat was filled by the howling of wolves.

**Author's Note:**

> RIP Allison Argent.
> 
> We'll miss you, Crystal. Good luck on wherever you decide to go. You're an amazingly talented actress, and you've got a bright future ahead of you.


End file.
